THE THAMES RAN FOUL: A SUMMER OF FILTH, 1858

The city of London sweltered in the heat of summer, 1858. But it was not merely the sun that parched the metropolis. An even more detestable force infested its very heart: the River Thames. Years of industrial effluents had transformed London's lifeblood into a nauseating odor. The stench was oppressive, a miasma that clung to every cobblestone and

The year the year of our Lord eight hundred and forty-five AD. A chill wind whistled across the Seine River, carrying with it the scent of salt and fear. The Norsemen were upon us, a ravenous swarm of warriors seeking riches. Their longships, like serpents, sliced through the waters, their flags billowing in the wind. A city once proud now trembled